


Forty-Eight Hours

by sighclops



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-28 06:49:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10825995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sighclops/pseuds/sighclops
Summary: Cassian isn't okay. Jyn never meant to care this much.





	Forty-Eight Hours

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vaultfox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaultfox/gifts).



> This is for the ever lovely [vaultfox](http://vaultfox.tumblr.com/), my giftee for the Rebelcaptain May 4th Exchange!

\--

_Forty-eight hours._

It’s the thought that’s stuck in Jyn’s head, because it was only supposed to be _forty-eight hours,_ and now Cassian’s been missing for over two weeks.

She feels like she hasn’t breathed this entire time.

“Left or right?” she barks into her comm, trying to keep her voice low, trying to stay quiet, but some of the panic seeps through. Some of the panic slips right out and bleeds into the sound of her voice, giving it a desperate edge that makes her feel too vulnerable, too exposed. There’re too many empty spaces left open, and the gaps are filled with the words she can’t say.  

She never meant to care this much.

The end of the hall splits off into two corridors, all flat gray with impossibly white lights and the familiarity still stings. It still creeps up the back of her spine, like if she forgets for even a moment--or just a second--all of this will have been a dream and she’s still there. Still prisoner.

The silence beats on as Jyn approaches the split; there’s nothing but static from her earpiece. “Kay,” she says this time. “Can you hear me?”

Jyn slows her pace as the static continues, and then breaks. Finally Kay says, “Both hallways will inevitably lead you to where they’re holding Cassian. The left will get you there thirty percent faster, but the risk of being caught increases by forty percent due to a higher level of security.”

And Jyn can’t stop walking, she can’t do anything that would make anyone bat an eye at her, so she weighs her options as quickly as she can and lifts her comm to her mouth. “Left it is, then.”

\--

_Call it what you want, or maybe what you need. Yeah, you need this to survive, you need this to keep everything you’ve protected--everything you’ve worked for--locked tight and hidden away._

_Call it the dead of night, or the deep, inked void of space; call it a vacuum, an echo, or the hollow place in your chest that you deem safe. Call it a dream, a vision of light, or call it that place on the beach where death fell over you but didn’t consume you._

_Just call it anything but love._

\--

The thing is, she needs to find Cassian.  

They’re running out of time--the amount of stormtroopers that have already compromised her (and consequently had to meet the business end of her baton) is too high. They have to know where she is, she only has to hope that Kaytoo can slow them down on the security end of things.

“The correct cell block should be on your next left,” he says in her ear, and Jyn gives him a quick _affirmative_ before racing towards it.

Her heart nearly stops when the door opens, the corridor is long and it stretches out ahead of her like an optical illusion. These aren’t normal cells--not like anything she’s been in, at least--but rather each door is a force field, shimmering red and vibrating under their own weight of holding themselves together. The whole corridor glows in their shadow, neon light burns into the black of the hall, and Jyn can feel the hum in her whole body. It vibrates the back of her skull, all the way down to her stomach--sickening and tumultuous.

But she has to keep going, because in a place like this they have to know exactly who Cassian is. Her eyes trace over each cell she passes, and her feet feel unsteady beneath her but she moves quickly. Most cells are full; each captive is either at the door or looks up at her when she passes by. If they say anything, she doesn’t hear it, their voices can’t carry past the overwhelming and driving hum of the force fields.

She has to identify their blurry images quickly and move on, but she can’t help but wonder how many of these people deserve to be in here, or if they--like Cassian--are being held for information.

There’s one cell unlike the others that forces her to stop her hurried pace. The person inside doesn't gaze back at her, but rather they're laying on the ground towards the back of the cell. It's a human shape, completely still, and from the color of their hair and the curve of the shoulders--even through this blurry barrier--she knows it's Cassian.

But Force, she hopes it isn't.

"Kay," she says, half aware that she's even lifted the comm to her lips. "Do you have my location? I'm standing in front of a cell and I think it might be his."

There’s a long moment of quiet, and then: “From security footage it appears that it ninety percent probable that it is him,” he says, and Jyn tries hard not to react to that. “Lowering the force field now.”

The whole door shimmers and fades in three heavy swoops and she races through, dropping to the side of the figure and placing a gentle hand on the shoulder. _Please_ she says to herself, and turns the body over.

She looks into the face of Cassian Andor and presses her lips together, refusing to fall apart.

The room is a strange twilight color, but it does nothing to hide the bruises that line the side of his face. They bloom deep purple and blue, right from his temple and down to his jaw. She bites her lip when she sees the blood caked into his hairline, and both of his eyes are closed but one of them is dark and swollen. His lips too--Force, his lips are dry and cracked, and his beard is longer and fuller than she’s ever seen it.

“Cassian,” she says softly, trying to ignore the urgency that’s rising in her throat. She reaches down to where his shirt lays open over his chest and places a hand over his heart, calming down a fraction from the way that it beats relentlessly against her palm.

She never meant to care this much.

She gives his shoulder a little nudge, but she doesn’t know the extent of his injuries and doesn’t want to risk doing any further damage. There’s a sense of helplessness as she kneels beside him, she keeps her hand on him, and both of their bodies hum in the red shadow of the prison. She shakes her head. “Cassian, please.”

That’s when Kay’s voice crackles to life in her ear. “Careful Jyn, there are stormtroopers headed your way.”

It's just a second later that she can make out the sound of heavy footsteps coming towards them--five, at least. She looks down at Cassian's body, and like this he's defenseless; like this she wants to say something she could never take back. So instead she rises to her feet, snapping her baton to life, and stands between him and the door.

She will protect him.  

Her blaster fires first, but it's the crack of her baton against a stormtrooper's helmet that frees the anger that sits in her throat. She loses herself to the swing of her arms, over and over again, the unruly wildness that rises and constricts her senses. She thinks of her father and she thinks of the pain of Scarif, all that fear, and all that anger. It comes back with each blow, and she doesn’t do anything to stop it.

Because Cassian is _unconscious_. Cassian was tortured--he wears the evidence on his face--and there’s nothing she can do to take it back. It was only supposed to be _forty-eight hours_ , and there’s nothing she can do to take it back.

 _She never meant to care this much_.

“Jyn?”

Cassian’s voice sounds small, but it brings her back to where she is. Her chest heaves and her hand throbs where it’s clutching her baton, but it’s that sound--that hope--that calls her out of the darkness. It draws her back to the present and reminds her that they need to get out of here, and fast.

Her body moves towards his without thought. He has his eyes open now, and despite the swelling in his left he seems to be remarkably alert, blinking up at her with the only shadow of pain hidden in his grimace.

“Congratulations,” she says thickly, reaching down a hand to help him up. “You’re being rescued.”

\--

_Call it forgiveness, call it your father’s eyes behind his sniper’s scope, or his wounded and guarded heart, everything like your own. Call it duty, that dreaded act done in the name of another, and the fire that couldn’t be drowned by the rain. It’s all a dream, isn't it? It’s all an illusion you’ve packed away into your heart, and you can’t deny the way that he claws at it--the way he brings it back to life._

_What is your purpose and what is your desire?_

\--

“Jyn,” and this time it’s Bodhi’s voice in her ear. “You need to get back to the ship now, our cover won’t last much longer.”

“Working on it,” she barks into her comm, and rearranges Cassian’s weight where it drags heavily along her side. She pats him on the hip and says, “Just a little further, okay? We can make it.”

That’s a promise to them both.

His weight is too much on one side and her blaster is hot on her other side but she’s pushing forward because she has no choice. This is all she has. He doesn’t say anything, but he stays conscious and that’s enough.

They’re almost out, there’s just one more door and they’ll escape this mess. She jams her elbow into the security panel next to it, ignoring the pain that shoots up her arm, and stares into the clearing that opens ahead of them.

It’s bright--much like Scarif, but instead of the sand there’s overgrown grass and weeds blowing wildly in the wind. The ship is just on the other side, just past the trees that rise from the field, and she feels like Kay, calculating their odds, but she knows there aren’t any other options, no matter how low the odds are.

“Look at me,” she says, urgency bleeding into her voice, and Cassian does. Those warm brown eyes are as open as the swelling will allow them to, and blood trails over his brow and down the side of his face, but he meets her gaze and that’s all she needs. “The ship is on the other side of this clearing, but we’ll completely vulnerable on our way there. I need you to stay with me, and I need you to give this everything you’ve got.”

Cassian squeezes his eyes shut before opening them again and really looking at her. It’s just like that elevator on Scarif, isn’t it? It could be the end or it could be yet another beginning, but right now all they have is hope.

“Okay,” he says, his voice rough from a lack of use, but it’s still his voice and it still threatens to pull Jyn apart. They nod at each other, and she tightens her grip on his waist before they dash out into the open.

Their gait is awkward but they move quickly. Jyn hears the sound of blaster fire over the wind, they keep low in the grass, and Cassian groans at her side. She dares a glance at him. His mouth is turned down in pain, but his eyes stay focused, and though she doesn’t know how difficult this is for him, she can only imagine.

“Just a little further,” she says, her voice a little softer than she means it to be. But it’s the truth, she can see the ship up ahead, and they both bolt from the grass through the tree line. Yeah, they’re weaving through the trees, just blurred lines and the only thought she has over the sound of blasters is _keep going_.

The door of the ship lowers and she can see Kay waiting for them, urging them forward. There’s no time to look behind them, her heart beats wildly against her chest, and her grip on Cassian is slipping but he doesn’t need it anymore, anyways. They scramble up the ramp, blessedly tripping into the safety of the ship.

“Hold on!” Bodhi calls out as they manage to strap themselves into their seats, breathing heavily and fumbling with their seatbelts.

In all her years of traveling the galaxy, there's still nothing like the rush of jumping to hyperspace. Jyn closes her eyes against the motion that curls through her stomach, unsure whether to be relieved or terrified from what just happened.

Because when it comes to Cassian’s safety, she feels pure, absolute relief.

But thinking about what he's been through? Her heart sinks and sinks and sinks.

Sometimes that's all it ever does.

It sinks at the thought of him, and it sinks again once they're safely in the air and Cassian unbuckles himself with a sense of urgency. She looks over at him only to be met with the sight of him hurrying away from her, half limping with his head down.

She tries not to let it sting. Deep down she knows that he's going to do what he needs to do--that's all he ever does--and it's impossible to blame someone for something that you'd do yourself.

_But still._

Bodhi looks back at her with a question in her eye, but she presses her lips together and shakes her head once. Understanding washes over his expression, but it does nothing to quiet her unease. Even Kay is suspiciously silent as they sit in Cassian’s absence.

And Jyn doesn’t want to think about it--about any of it. She turns her face towards the window and watches the star trails, half mesmerized and only half distracted from the thought of Cassian. It’s not enough to hope that he’s alright, her mind keeps flashing back to how he looked in his cell: his unconscious body covered in blood and bruises, and it makes her grit her teeth in anger.

Cassian gives everything he can to the Rebellion, but he shouldn’t have to give this. He deserves so much more than these missions, this pain, and the way that he closes himself off to the world around him.

He deserves something softer...

So she watches the star trails, these lines of light that move at a dizzying speed. Everything moves at a dizzying speed, but Jyn doesn’t feel any of it. She lets her eyes unfocus, daydreaming unsteadily out the window, and lets herself feel the weight of her exhaustion.

Cassian eventually comes back, sitting down next to her, and she tears her gaze away from the window to tilt her head towards him. All the blood has been carefully scrubbed away from his skin, but it makes the bruises seem darker. He’s still swollen and like this she can see the sharp lines where his skin broke, thin and red and painful. There’s one spot along his hairline where he didn’t get all of the blood off and he won’t look at her. He sits next to her and looks out the window, at the star trails and that dizzying speed and he doesn’t glance at her once.

She reaches over, takes his hand, and hopes that it’s enough.

His expression doesn’t change, he still sits there stone faced, with his eyes cold and far away, but he laces his fingers through hers and squeezes tight enough that her breath hitches. He holds onto her like a lifeline, like hope, like she’s something he needs.

She never meant to care this much.

\--

_So what is your purpose and what is your desire?_

_To be with you._

\--

Jyn doesn’t see him for a few days after that.

Once they landed at the Rebel base he was quickly escorted away, mostly likely to be questioned for his time under Imperial guard and whatever accusations they could throw at him.

She tries not to be disappointed, because she understands. Honestly, she does. But at the same time there’s only so long she can go before her thoughts idly trace back to him, she can’t help but wonder if that cut above his brow has healed or if the corners of his lips evened out into their usual straight line.

Her mind wanders until it reminds her of all these little details about him, and she forgets why she even knows all these things. She begins to think about him--worry about him--so much that she has to consciously stop herself. She has to force these thoughts away because she never meant to care this much.

Despite all of this, she refuses to ask about him. It's almost as if that question has the power to reveal her feelings about him. As if that inquiry alone says more than any other words could.

She just hopes he went to the medbay...

\--

_And this is it, isn’t it? You collide only to fall apart again._

_Because there isn’t enough room for the light to get in. You’re both too tough to bruise so you carry your battered shells with you like a badge--something that says,_ I’ve been here, I’ve done this, and the weight of the hurts isn’t enough to pull me down.

_Only love can do that._

\--

When Jyn does see him, he looks bad.

It’s not even the traces of torture, which are surprisingly better. Most of the swelling has gone down and the bruises are just an echo of what they once were. Where his skin was broken and bloody, it’s now faded and they’re just faint lines--evidence of what happened.

What’s disturbing: the deep purple shadows under his eyes and that far off look in his gaze. There’s an exhaustion in his eyes and the way that his shoulders curve in towards themselves. Where he usually stands tall with his hands clasped behind his back, he looks uncomfortable and out of place.

It doesn’t sit right with Jyn. It’s been over a week since he’s been back, he’s had to have slept since then, right?

She looks at him again, and he's speaking but he looks distracted. His hands fidget with a hydrospanner, and she has to think...

Maybe he hasn’t.

“Cassian!” she calls out when Kes leaves his side. Cassian stands alone next to his ship, and he looks up at the sound of her voice, his tired eyes turn soft but he stays exactly where he is and she goes to him.

“Kay says you’re stuck with sanitation again,” he says, one corner of his lip raises in sympathy and it’s a little reassuring.

She shrugs. “It won’t be too bad. I think they’re punishing me for not listening to them.”

“Yeah,” he says, and his head dips down. When he looks back up at her squints with what might be embarrassment, something she’s never seen in him before. “I’m sorry you had to see me like that.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m just glad you’re alive.”

He looks at her with an intensity that his brown eyes rarely show. This entire time she’s known him, it’s always been just a glimpse, and it’s always been when they’re in trouble. His lips part and she remembers the blood that was just on them. He says, “I owe you one, Erso.”

“No you don’t,” she says earnestly, because they’ve been through enough that there’s no point in keeping track. It’s then that her eyes catch Kaytoo loading up the ship behind him. “Are they sending you out again?”

“Yeah, I’m leaving for Hutta tomorrow.”

“But you just got back!” she exclaims, forgetting herself for a moment. “After what you went through--”

“They need me, Jyn.”

 _I need you_. She bites her lip. “They couldn’t send _anyone_ else?”

“Apparently not.”

She looks at him for a long time. She doesn’t want to accept that answer but she knows she has to. After defying orders to stay behind on the last mission, the last thing she can do is ask for a favor. “At least tell me you’ve been sleeping,” she says.

“I’ve been sleeping.”

Jyn gives him a pointed look, because there’s not a chance that that’s true.

“I have,” he defends.

She breathes out slowly, glancing at his ship and then back to him. He presses his lips together in a certain sense of helplessness at the situation. She can relate. “How long will you be gone?” she asks.

“Two days.”

“Forty-eight hours,” she says with a weak laugh.

And he looks at her with understanding. “I promise I’ll come back this time.”

“You better,” she says, and her voice stays light but she means it. Force, she means it. “I don’t want to rescue you again, space cadet. You’re much too heavy.”

His lips break into a smile and he shakes his head at her before opening his arms to embrace her. He tips his head down to rest on her shoulder, warm and secure, and he says, “Thank you.”

She nods against his chest, unwilling or unable to draw away from the hug. He smells like the garage but she breathes against his shirt anyway. Her heart aches and she doesn’t want him to leave. She wants to tell him that this is all she wants but she doesn’t know how.

“Yeah,” she murmurs, because she might’ve saved his life but it doesn’t feel like that. It feels like she’s falling apart, like she’s letting go and dangerously close to admitting the things that would leave her completely vulnerable.

But she’s starting to doubt that it’s such a bad thing after all.

\--

_What else could you call it? Every day you live a life that should have ended on Scarif. Every day you think of the man that held you on that beach and you wonder..._

_Yeah, you wonder..._

\--

Jyn can’t stop thinking about Cassian leaving.

It’s late and she’s on her back, watching stray light move across her ceiling like an echo of the daylight. It’s not distracting enough, her mind keeps going back to Cassian. The Rebellion will ruin him, won’t they? It seems like it’s all they want to do.

She has to wonder if he’s awake. Judging from the tired lines around his eyes and his faraway gaze, she knows he’s been sleeping very little, if at all.

The thought sits restlessly in her mind. She watches her ceiling--like a dream, like a vision--but she needs to know. She needs to know that he’ll be well rested for his next mission. She can’t stand the thought of him putting himself in danger again.

The halls are quiet at this time of night, even her footsteps are silent against the tiled floor. She winds her way around familiar corners, and as many times as she’s been to Cassian’s quarters, she feels like she’s never purposefully gone there.

It fills her with a certain sense of hesitancy.

Sure enough, light seeps out from under his door. It’s the only one on in the hall, so it makes it seem like it’s leading her there, directly. It makes it seem like the only place that’s alive right now.

She bites her lip as she stands in front of the door. Her hand lingers where it’s raised to knock, and she has to think about why she’s here. Because it seemed like a good idea earlier, but now that she stands here she doesn’t know if she should be.

But she’s tired of it. She doesn’t even know what. Just--all of it.

He opens the door a moment after she knocks, and he looks so soft in his undershirt and fleece pants. There’s a quick moment of surprise in his expression, but all he says is, “Do you want to come in?”

She nods, for lack of a better response, and the lights are on but it still feels dark. His room is messy, especially his desk, where he has several datapads spread out and maps and diagrams left open. It feels colder in here than the rest of the dormitories, and Cassian watches her carefully.

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

She has a few options here, but she chooses to be honest. “I was worried about you.”

“You shouldn’t be.”

“I know,” she says. “But I still am.”

He doesn’t sit down, opting instead to stand across from her, and he has his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes are wary but alert, despite the tired shadows sitting underneath them. “Why?” he asks.

“Because you’re leaving tomorrow and you look like you haven’t slept in a week,” she answers. “Because you deserve to rest after what happened to you.”

“I don’t want to rest,” he says. He meets her gaze for only a moment before turning away, staring down at his feet. “I want to keep moving.”

“Why?” she asks. “What happens when you stop?”

“I don’t want to think about it.”

“Cassian--”

“The torture,” he clarifies. “If I slow down, it all comes rushing back. I just--can’t go back there right now.”

He finally looks up and meets her eyes, and there’s a sense of desperation burning beneath his gaze. Jyn swallows thickly, trying not to focus on the anger that swells in her chest, and nods at him. “Okay,” she says. “I’ll stay with you, then.”

“What?”

She looks over at his bed, neatly made and untouched. “We won’t talk about it, and you won’t have to think about it, but at the very least you need to lay down.”

His expression turns resigned as he watches her move towards the bed. She untucks the duvet from under the pillows and he shakes his head at her. “Where’s Kay to tell me the odds of you giving up any time soon.”

“We both know those odds, Andor.”

“Don’t call me that,” he says, but one corner of his lips rises and he comes closer. Jyn’s heart picks up the pace as he glares at her before settling into the bed. She considers, for a moment, sitting next to him, but opts instead to lay down in the space he’s left for her.

The mattress dips beneath her weight, and his body already faces her, still slightly bruised but still beautiful. Her nerves rattle around the back of her mind as she pulls the duvet up and around her shoulder, but she knows he needs this.

And maybe she needs this too.

“Why are you here?” he asks for the second time tonight, like he can read her mind, or maybe she’s more obvious than she thought.

“I told you, I’m worried about you.”

“Why?”

It’s the same question, but she stares at him this time. The lights are still on and his gaze is unwavering. It should set her nerves on fire but somehow it calms her down, somehow it settles something in her chest and gives her the confidence to say, “Because I care about you.”

He makes a small sound, and his lips press together before he leans forward and presses them against her forehead. He stays there for a moment, it’s just a small, soft kiss, but it feels right. Everything about this feels right.

“Talk to me,” he says, and Jyn does, settling around him. Their legs tangle together, and her hand rubs circles across his back as she tells mindless stories from her days of smuggling and finding her way on her own. She can feel his shoulders tremble, but her voice drags on until he settles down. Eventually his breathing evens out and she smiles to herself, closing her eyes and tucking her face close to his.

Just forty-eight more hours...

\--

_You never meant to care this much, but you do. You live for the quiet moments, the inbetween, and you think of that beach. You think of lovely, gold light, and the end of all things._

_You were prepared to die with him, but now you get the chance to live with him._

_And you will take each chance until they’re spent._


End file.
